Stories from a Life Still Being Written
Come sit for a while.
There are stories here about love and loss, friendship and belonging, courage and becoming. Stories about the people we meet, the places that change us, and those ordinary moments we might miss if we aren’t paying attention.
I don’t have the answers, but I’ve learned to notice. And sometimes, when we hear someone else’s story, we recognize a little bit of our own.
Read. Notice. Ponder. Repeat.
I’ve known that feeling around water since I was a kid, pool hopping around the neighborhood. There’s nothing better than the sound you hear as you float on top of the water except the complete and utter goodness that comes from swimming across a pool, a lake, a pond or the ocean using the breast stroke. It feels like you are the only one with you. I don’t really have words for that feeling. I just hope you’ve experienced it. That feeling always brings me home.
Water brings calm. It gives me breathing room. Something in me slows down. My shoulders drop. I breathe differently. I feel better.
Water can support better health. And sometimes water doesn’t need to be quite so poetic. Sometimes it’s simply a really cold glass of water when you’re thirsty. Water refreshes.
Maybe that’s why I’ve spent a lifetime finding my way back to the water’s edge. Maybe I was a mermaid in my former years.
Looking back, I can see that I’ve spent much of my life doing the same thing in very different places. Bearing witness. To people’s stories. To places. To love and loss. To ordinary moments that turn out to be not so ordinary at all.
I pay attention. I notice. Then I write about just that.
